


Cold Fire

by well39



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Language, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Violence towards children, but still please be careful reading, cause I'm lazy, in memories tho, it'll be a mostly happy story, super short chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 12:58:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4667393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/well39/pseuds/well39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mathias has the run of the prison, having made his way to the top of the food chain. That is, until the new inmate catches his eye. Dennor prison AU.</p><p>EDIT: Due to personal health issues, this fic is on hiatus. Once I'm recovered I'll do a full re-write. A lot of things will probably change, so if you do read this unfinished version consider it like a first draft. Thanks to everyone that's stuck with me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Sydney (merry super early christmas), and the original requester on tumblr  
> Rating will be upgraded to M in later chapters. Other than violence, no chapter warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil note, this'll be my first multi-chap, and I never use a beta, so if you see any mistakes, or have any ideas how I could improve, please do let me know.

“Oi, Kohler, cm’ere for a sec!”

Mathias looked up from his tray, and the sludge that passed for food in this place. The cafeteria was crowded, today being one of the days when most inmates were let out around the same time. Despite the usual noise, one of the less annoying prisoners had managed to get his attention from the other side of the hall. There were a few of them there, crowded against the back wall. 

Mathias glanced up to the walkways, but the guards were studiously not paying attention to that particular area of the floor.

He rose from his seat and passed his tray along down the bench, strolling over to the crowd. He didn’t have to push his way through the men. They parted in front of him, some shooting glares, others avoiding his gaze, but none ready to stand their ground. Mathias snorted. Looked like they still hadn’t figured out where he’d got the axe from last time.

“You called?”

“Yeah, check this out.” It was one of the guys that hung around him, went by the name Ralph or something equally stupid. Mathias didn’t usually mind this one, his jokes were a good distraction from the boredom of this place. Right now, however, he was pinning someone against the wall, gesturing for Matthias to step closer.

He did so, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of the newcomer’s hair - and he had to be a newcomer, if the guards weren’t worried - jerking his face up into the light.

He whistled appreciatively. Ice-blue eyes glared at him from under a blond fringe, cool despite the trickle of blood from his nose. 

“What have we got here?” Mathias let his gaze wander lower, travelling over the slim body, and then back up again, to where his captive’s eyes had dropped to sub-zero temperatures.

“New guy, wouldn’t tell us his name,” Ralph supplied. “Wouldn’t even speak. I was asking real polite and everything.”

“So I see.” Mathias grabbed the guy’s chin and twisted his face back and forth, checking for any extra damage. Other than a split lip and bruised cheek, he seemed well enough. They really were being polite. “Well, sweetheart? Cherry pie? Honey?” he asked, forcing the man to look at him again. “My queen?” The frozen eyes narrowed. “Oh, I don’t mind calling you that, actually.”

“Lukas,” the man spat. “You can call me Lukas.” His voice was low, almost soft, and lilting - and no less deadly for it.

This one was beaten, but he wasn’t broken.

Mathias liked that. He grinned. “Uh-uh, too late, I think I like ‘queen’ better.” He released Lukas’ chin and slung his arm over the man’s shoulders. “You and me, we’re gonna be pals, yeah?” Ignoring the nails digging into his side, he spun around to face the crowd. “Me and queenie here are buddies now, got that?”

There was a muttering of assent, some disappointed looks, and then they started to disperse. Ralph gave him an amused glance.

“What?”

“Nah, it’s just, I knew you’d like this one.” He waved and headed back to the table.

Mathias grinned again at Lukas, who was now quietly seething in his arms. His face promised murder, and it sent a shiver of excitement down Matthias’ back.

“I’m Mathias, but most people call me Kohler,” he introduced himself, keeping a firm grip on the other’s shoulder as he steered him towards a nearby table. The occupants either shuffled along to make room or relocated entirely.

“Do I look like I fucking care?” Lukas glowered. “Get your hands off me.”

“Alright,” Mathias complied, holding his arms up with an easy smile. “But don’t think about leaving, queenie. The only thing stopping you from becoming the next big toy around here is me right now. And trust me,” he sat, and patted the space next to him on the bench. “You don’t want that.”

There was something akin to contempt in Lukas’ face, in the curl of his lip, and it made Mathias’ veins hum with energy. Perhaps he could take care of himself. Perhaps not. But he wasn’t stupid, and they both knew it was better not to take chances, so Mathias wasn’t surprised at all when Lukas finally took a seat.

“Right then, glad that’s settled.”

Lukas eyed him as he stole a couple of rolls from the tray’s the previous occupants of the table had left behind.

“Why?”

At first, Mathias didn’t know what he was talking about. Once it clicked, however, he quirked a half-smile, biting into the bread and chucking the other roll to Lukas, who caught it easily. “No reason.”

Lukas raised an eyebrow, tearing his roll in half. 

“You look like fun.” Mathias said.  _And danger_ , he thought, but he kept that to himself. 

Lukas shook his head. “And you look like an idiot.” He bit into his own bread, and his eyebrows twitched together in a slight frown.

Mathias laughed.

 

_Lukas shoved Emil ahead of him, keeping him on his feet.  “Run!” he shouted, no time to look back, no time to check where the woman was. “Run, now! Faster!”_

_Emil let out a sob, his small legs moving as fast as they could as the two of them raced down the hill, his sight blurred by tears. There was a terrible shout from behind them, and Lukas felt his heart leap into his mouth. He pushed Emil, sending him careening into a tree, and turned just in time to put his arm up, just in time for the knife to bite into his skin._

_“Stop! Wait, don’t hurt him!” he choked out, voice harsh with pain. He looked back to where Emil had fallen, seeing him still sitting there, and desperation filled him even further. “What are you_ doing _bror,_ run _!”_

_Emil’s cheeks wet, he could only look at the woman in terror, another sob escaping him._

_“_ Mor _.”_

 

“Wake up.”

Lukas’ eyes snapped open. Mathias grinned above him, face hovering inches from his, and barely dodged the punch to the gut.

“Easy there,” Mathias laughed. He leaned back against the wall of their cell, putting some space between them. “Time to rise and shine, princess.”

Lukas glared, the fog of sleep still heavy in his mind, and sat upright. His muscles ached from yesterday’s beating, but there was also a satisfying bruise forming over his knuckles, proof he hadn’t just taken what he was given.

“I’ve decided you’re not a queen after all,” Mathias continued, ignoring Lukas’ silence. “Queen sounds too,” he made a face, “old. So you’re princess.”

“Lukas.”

Mathias tut-tutted at him. “No, no, that’s no good, you have to use your proper title.”

Lukas closed his eyes as Mathias continued to rattle on about something, a headache building already.

Absently, he rubbed his thumb over his arm, fingers tracing a silver scar.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of violence, threats, some language. Smoking, if that bothers anyone.

Mathias settled back on the ground next to Ralph, splaying his legs and leaning against the wall.

“You’ve, ah, got a little something there,” Ralph commented idly, pointing to the fresh scratch on Mathias’ cheek. His voice was nearly lost under the buzzing, melded hum of the washing room. 

Mathias grinned, not taking his eyes away from Lukas, who stood with his back turned, heaving a load of sheets into one of the carts. He whistled, and Lukas turned his head. Running a thumb over the scratch, Mathias winked, and licked the trace amount of blood off. Expression unchanging, Lukas flipped him off and returned to work.

Ralph shook his head and pulled a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of his uniform. He tapped one out and held it in his teeth, patting a different pocket now. “You know,” Ralph spoke around the smoke, a lighter appearing in his hands. It flicked into life as if by magic, and he held it up to his mouth, cupping his hands and letting the flames lick at the low-quality paper. He pocketed the lighter again before taking a long, deep drag. “I knew you’d want him.”

“Oh yeah,” Mathias held his hand out for the packet, and Ralph quirked an eyebrow. “You said.” Feeling a light tap on his palm, Mathias glanced down and frowned at the single cigarette deposited there.

“Yeah.” Ralph ignored the puppy eyes Mathias was giving him. “Ask me why.”

Giving up, Mathias stuck the cigarette between his teeth, chewing on it. “I know why.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

Ralph grunted in pain from a well-aimed kick to the shin, and Mathias smirked. “Yes I do.”

“Uh-huh. Do you know why he’s in here, then?” Ralph rubbed his leg.

Mathias hadn’t considered that. “Nope. Does it matter?”

Ralph knocked his head back against the wall and looked to the ceiling for patience. “Yes. Yes it matters.”

 

Lukas leaned into the industrial sized washing machine, reaching far into the back to grab the last sheet. It was still wet, and his fingers had long ago pruned from handling the fabrics. Tugging it out, he threw it into the cart with little care, wiping his hands on his shirt. Sweat beaded on his forehead and stained his shirt – he would have to shower today. His eye twitched. The showers here were cold. Or they had been, every time he’d been able to get one.

“Princess, how you doing?”

Lukas stumbled forward, a heavy weight settling over his shoulders. Mathias beamed at him, and Lukas glared. Apparently that scratch wasn’t going to do anything to put him off.

“It’s been brought to my attention that we haven’t really talked. So, what are you in for?”

Lukas stared at him. The harsh ringing that signalled the end of that period of work sounded, and around them prisoners finished what they were doing, taking a moment to stretch.

“What?” Mathias was not to be distracted. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he offered, leaning in to Lukas’ ear with a conspiratorial whisper.

Lukas shuddered at the hot breath, shaking him off. He turned, ignoring Ralph's raised eyebrow from where he still sat, and strode out the doors with the rest of the inmates.  

Mathias watched him go, grin only widening.

He said nothing of it during lunch, only sat across from Lukas and smirked, seeming unaffected by the glares, or the rather violent game of footsie taking place under the table.

He said nothing of it while they went to work in the kitchen, sitting against a wall with Ralph and flipping off any guards that complained of smoke – though he himself only chewed the end of an unlit cigarette.

He said nothing of it during the evening meal, eating and chattering away like usual, drawing groans and rolled eyes from those that could get away with it.

Lukas wasn’t fooled. He knew enough of Mathias by now to realise he was only biding his time.

And sure enough, once they were escorted back to their cell, the door locked for the night and no chance of escape, he pounced.

“So. I’m a lifter. And a housebreaker. Mugging, sometimes.” Mathias had Lukas pinned against the wall, arms trapped over his head. His eyes roamed over Lukas’ lithe body, stretched out before him as he spoke. Blood beaded on his forehead from a new scratch, and for once, he’d dropped the grin. “I steal shit. I beat shit.” He didn’t move to touch Lukas more than squeezing his grip tighter around his wrists. “And they caught me.” He did crack a smile now, showing teeth, eyes crinkling without mirth.

Lukas stared straight ahead, disregarding both the gritty concrete digging into the bones of his hands, and the way Mathias’ eyes lingered on his body. His gaze was cold, glittering with the same ice that had been there when they met.

“Get off me,” he said, voice chilled.

Mathias moved closer, until their heads were mere centimetres apart. “I don’t think so, princess.” He used his free hand to stroke Lukas’ cheek, slow, somehow sinister. “I’ve told you mine.” The words hung there, an offer and a threat all at once.

Lukas jerked his head away from the touch. “Ask your fucking buddy. He seems to know enough.”

“He does too,” Mathias conceded. His face split again, in that cold, humourless way that made the hairs on the back of Lukas’ arms rise. “And he wanted to tell me. But that’s no fun.”

Lukas curled his lip, hands clenching. “You’re all about the fun, aren’t you.”

Mathias laughed, low and long. “What’s the point in life without it?”

There was silence while Lukas considered him a moment - then smiled. There was half a second for surprise to register on Mathias’ face, before his breath left him in a whoosh and he doubled over in pain, releasing Lukas’ hands to clutch at his stomach. Shaking his arms out, Lukas lowered his leg and stepped over his shaking body. Mathias gasped for breath, one hand scrabbling over the ground, looking for something to grab on to.

“Don’t worry. I only kicked your liver.” Lukas crouched down next to Mathias’ face, voice soft. His eyes were cool as he tilted his head and listened to the choking sounds. “Your ribs aren’t broken. There won’t be any permanent damage.” Reaching out, he brushed back the hair that had fallen into Mathias’ eyes when he collapsed.

Mathias snarled, squinting through unbidden tears. His hand trembled as he pushed himself off the ground, ribs burning, screaming at him even as he primed himself for a fight. This was a kind of pain he’d felt many times before. Sharp. Stabbing. Constant. He could work through it.

Lukas remained where he was, his gaze glittering in the low light. He let Mathias catch his breath, then slowly rose to his feet, hands hanging unguarded at his sides. Without another glance, he moved over to the bed, climbing the ladder to the top bunk.

“Hey,” Mathias said, warning in his tone. Lukas paused on the ladder. “I told you mine.”

Foot hovering in mid-air, Lukas let his head fall forward, then continued to climb. He didn’t bother removing his shoes before lying down, back to Mathias.

“Hey!” Frustration crept into Mathias’ voice. He winced, the call sending a jolt of pain across his abdomen. There was no way he’d be able to climb the bunk tonight.

There was a beat of silence, then a sigh drifted down from above.

“Attempted murder.”

“What?”

Another sigh, this one slightly more annoyed. “I tried to kill someone.”

Mathias opened his mouth.

“Go to sleep.”

Closing his mouth, Mathias limped over to the bottom bed, dropping onto it with a grimace. He tried to arrange himself as comfortably as he could against the wall, knowing he was in for a long night. Nearly ten minutes had passed before he spoke again.

“See, now why wouldn’t you just say-“

There was a groan and a muffled curse. “If you don’t shut up right now, I won’t have just _tried._ ”

Mathias leaned back against the wall, a satisfied smile on his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for language, violence, attempted molestation, threats

“So you asked, then?”

“He didn’t kill someone enough.”

It was a fine day, and weekends were best spent out in the yard. The sun sat like a ripe orange in the sky, bright and hot. Mathias crouched near the fence, digging in the dirt with a stick, nursing his still-aching side from the night before.

“No.” Ralph gazed out over the other inmates, fingers tapping at his side. A scowl marred his normally cheerful face. “Did you get anything else?”

Mathias let out a frustrated snort. “What more could there be?” He didn’t want to admit he had been too busy thinking of the way Lukas’ frozen gaze had bored into him to ask any more questions once they woke up.

“No offense Kohler, but you’re a fucking idiot.”

“No offense, Branson, but you need a smoke.”

The tapping increased in speed. “Yeah. Well.”

“Got ‘em in the inspection?”

Ralph nodded, short and sharp.

“Huh.” There wasn’t anything Mathias could do. He went back to drawing in the dirt.

Ralph knew it too. “Stop trying to distract me. Bondevik.” He kicked at a stone. “He really didn’t say anything else?”

“No.” Mathias looked up at Ralph finally, irritation getting the better of him. “Get to your point.”

“You might wanna stop talking to me like that, or you’ll never get it.”

Mathias kicked his leg out to the side, hitting Ralph square in the knee and knocking his feet out from under him. He landed with a thud, and Mathias made no other move than to hold the stick he’d been using to draw with at Ralphs throat. The tip just happened to be sharp after all that rubbing against the ground. “You might wanna tell me right fucking now.”

Ralph just knocked the stick away with a grunt, and lay his head back on the ground. “My ass hurts like a bitch, you know.”

“Stop dropping the soap then.”

“Fuckhead.”

“Dickwad.”

Ralph snorted.

“Tell me.”

 

Hands. Pressure. Breath.

Grunting, Lukas felt a satisfying burst of pain across his fist as it met with a solid cheekbone. There was a curse and a rustle from behind, and then they were running, Lukas left watching the two men trip over each other as they rounded the corner to get away. He ignored the blood dripping in a sluggish stream from his nose, brushing the dust off his clothes.

“Sorry about them.”

Lukas started, looking over his shoulder. It was one of the guards, head poking around the corner from the direction of the yard. He cursed.

The guard only smiled, friendly, and walked out so Lukas could see him. “Don’t worry. I saw what they did.” Lukas raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to punish you for self-defence.”

He turned to face the guard fully. “You saw, but you didn’t help?” It was an accusation. The feeling of their hands on him, being pressed into the – Lukas tightened his grip on his temper, not letting it get out of control.

“You didn’t need it.”

“And if I had?”

The guard fingered his baton, smile not shifting. “I’m Tino,” he introduced himself after a pause.

“Lukas.”

“I know,” Tino’s smile widened. “You’re the one with Kohler under your thumb.” Lukas’ eyes narrowed. “Oh, everyone knows,” Tino waved off the glare, “he was limping this morning.” He sounded impressed.

Lukas ran his fingers over the scar on his arm, not responding.

The guard stepped forward, reaching into a pocket. Lukas moved back on instinct. “Relax.” He held out a tissue. “For your nose,” he prompted, when Lukas didn’t move to take it.

“. . .Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tino replied, handing it over with another smile.

Lukas wished he would stop. Wiping at the blood, he tipped his head back, hoping maybe the guard would leave now.

“You know –“

No such luck.

“Your phone privileges should be through in a few days.”

At that, Lukas’ breath hitched, and his head fell forward. He stared at the guard – Tino.

“Yeah, I thought you’d be interested. But it’s no use if you aren’t on the good behaviour list.”

Frustration clawed at Lukas, freeing his mouth to move once more. “You think I started this?”

“Like I said, don’t worry.” Tino grinned, a light of mischief in his eyes. “All it means is being a little sneakier, that’s all.”

“You-“

“You should hurry back.” Waving, Tino headed back out into the yard, one hand settled in an easy grip on his baton.

Lukas stood there, eyes stuck staring at the place Tino had been.

Phone. Emil. He could, maybe, just a little – no. He shook his head. No. No, he had to wait. Stomach clenching, Lukas turned his eyes to the ground.

There was a crunch of feet in the dirt behind him, and he felt an already familiar weight settle around his shoulders.

“Makin friendly with Tino, huh?”

“Fuck off.” Lukas jerked away from Mathias.

“No need to be _rude_ , princess, I –“ Mathias saw the dried blood on Lukas’ face and his voice trailed off. His gaze followed the path Tino had taken, becoming darker. “Little fucker. He did that?” The question was low. Rough.

“No.”

“Then who? I’ll fucking kill them.”

Lukas breathed out, long and slow. He counted to three in his head before answering. “Why?”

“Why?”

“What the fuck does it matter.”

Suddenly Mathias was right there in front of him, his eyes cold and hard. He reached out as though to trail a finger down Lukas’ cheek, the same gesture he’d used the night before, then paused. There was something in his gaze – something different – and then it was gone, and his hand dropped. “You’re mine,” he said, that same rough edge to his voice. Lukas bristled. “For as long as you’re here, you belong to me.”

“I _belo_ -“

“Shut up.” Mathias growled. “As far as they know, you’re mine, and they touched you, and that means I get to hurt them now. So who is it?”

Lukas stepped forward, bringing their faces less than an inch apart. “In case you forgot,” he prodded below Mathias’ ribs, making him snarl, “I don’t need protection.”

“Just fucking tell me.”

“I don’t know them.”

“You-“

“I’ve barely been here a fucking week, I don’t know them.”

Cursing in frustration, Mathias pushed off from Lukas and turned his back to him. His hands clenched and unclenched by his sides.

Lukas took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the bell rang for them to return inside.

“I don’t need protection,” he repeated under his breath.

Eyes still closed, he didn’t see when Mathias tensed and looked back at him, that same unreadable expression on his face. The ringing ended, and Lukas opened his eyes as the neck of his shirt tugged him backwards, looking up to see a pissed Mathias dragging him around the corner.

“Hurry up,” he said, not looking at Lukas. “We’ll miss the head count.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how late this is, I did it a few days ago and didn't post OTL. And yes, I will make the story clearer as we go through, have no fear.  
> Thank you for all the reviews, they give me life!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as always, plus abuse and implied child abuse. Yeah, I finally wrote it. I'm hopeless with updating things.

_“M-mor.” Emil’s whimper echoed in the dank air of the basement, but there was no response. Lukas shifted against the bare mattress, trying not to think about the stains on it, or what they had been caused by._

_"Em,” Lukas spoke softly, voice croaking, but Emil flinched nonetheless. “Come here.” He lifted his arms and nodded his head towards the space between his legs. “Come on.”_

_It took a moment for Emil to move. Then he was crawling over the bed, wobbling on the unsteady surface, and into Lukas’ lap. He rested his back against Lukas’ chest, sobs quieting as he curled into a ball. Lukas pressed his head to Emil’s hair, breathing easier._

_“It’ll be okay,” he whispered. “He won’t touch you.”_

_Emil sniffed once and nodded, his head moving against Lukas’ face in small, quick, bobs._

_They stayed like that, held against one another._

 

Something caused the bed to shift with weight, and Lukas’ eyes snapped open as he thrashed a foot out. Mathias yelped and ducked as it drove towards his face, retreating a step down the ladder. It took a second for the surroundings to sink in – bare walls, stained plastic cover on the light, thin sheets – before Lukas lay back against his pillow, covering his face with an arm.

“Give me some warning next time, will you?” Mathias’ popped his infuriating head back over the top of the bed, scowling. Lukas just kicked out again, silent as he rubbed his eyes.

 

Things were tense between them. A passing prisoner saw fit to comment over breakfast, only to receive two frozen glares, promising things that were far from pleasant.

“What’s wrong with the two of you?” sighed Ralph, looking at their sad excuse for porridge with distaste before pushing his bowel away. “You’re even worse than usual.”

“Fuck off,” was Mathias’ response, snagging the bowel and digging in with a gusto he reserved for the best of meals. Which was every one. Lukas ignored him.

“Uh-huh,” Ralph glanced between them, then dropped the subject. “That’ll be three dollars,” he commented, as Mathias finished off the sludge.

“One,” Mathias countered, voice muffled as he licked the bowl clean.

“Three.”

“Two,” he said, glaring and setting it down.

“Three.”

“Two-fifty,” he gritted out.

Ralph was unfazed.

Mathias glared a moment more. “Damn, you drive a hard bargain. Three then.”

“Good doing business with you.” Ralph turned his attention over to Lukas, following his gaze up to the walkway that ran around the room. “What, you interested in Tino?”

Lukas tore his eyes away from the small form, slapping Mathias’ hand away from his own breakfast with a bit more force than necessary. “You know him?”

Mathias let out a snort.

“In a way.” Ralph glanced between them again, watching Mathias watch Lukas. “What did you want to know?”

Lukas hesitated. Mathias opened his mouth, and Lukas spoke to cut him off. “Can I trust him?”

“Sure,” Ralph said easily. “He’s a good guy. Don’t piss him off.” Lukas went to speak once more, and Ralph held up a hand. “Any more that that’ll cost you, and you don’t look like you’ve got the stuff to cover it.”

“Smokes,” Mathias supplied, at the flash of confusion in Lukas’ eyes. “Your allowance hasn’t come in yet, has it?”

Lukas shrugged, irritated.

“I could-“

“No.” He didn’t let Mathias finish. His hands were fisted, but his voice remained calm. “You have nothing to do with this.”

Mathias’ gaze didn’t shift from Lukas’ face. Without another word, he pushed back from the table and walked off, clearing a path through the cafeteria as he went.

Sitting back, Ralph tapped his fingers against the table, one eyebrow raised. Lukas ignored him, finishing his food in silence.

 

Lukas’ bad mood persisted over the next few days. Every now and then he would see something, or someone would come to him, and he would disappear for a short while, only to return with a stray bruise on his cheekbone or arm. Mathias stewed silently, unable to protest, eyes always following Lukas. He let out a curse each time he lost sight of him.

“He likes to fight?” asked Ralph, after one such incident.

“I don’t fucking know.” Mathias answered, chasing a stray pea around his tray with a spoon, not looking.

“Huh.”

Mathias shot him a scowl.

 

The next day, and the day after, it was Mathias who would disappear, face clouded and ignoring any questions asked of him when he returned. They didn’t speak to each other, even in passing, and Lukas’ patience wore thin as time passed and no one approached him. It was almost a week later when he decided he’d had enough.

It was just after the inspection, after Mathias had stood against the wall with Lukas, cracking jokes with the guards as they turned their mattresses inside out. Just after they’d been left alone, and the smile had been dropped, discarded somewhere with his words and easy manner, that Lukas snapped.

This time it was Mathias being slammed against the wall, Lukas bearing down on him, his hands on either side of his head.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” Mathias was unruffled by the break in their unspoken agreement not to speak to each other. He seemed to know just the right ways to infuriate Lukas.

“ _Stop–“_   Lukas growled in frustration, slamming his hand against the wall. “Stop this – whatever this is.”

“I didn’t know princesses were allowed to lose their tempers,” Mathias only commented, idly turning his gaze to the side. He eyed Lukas’ hand, the red skin.

“You’ve been stealing my fights.” It wasn’t a question.

“They wanted me.”

Lukas bit back the words that wanted to fly out of his mouth. For a fight, yes, Mathias was perfect. But while they both knew that’s not what those men had wanted Lukas for, neither of them were going to say it. 

“It doesn’t involve you,” he ground out, instead.

Mathias looked at him then, his eyes dark and unreadable. “No?” He lifted his hand, setting it on Lukas’ hip, causing him to stiffen.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Huh.” Slowly, Mathias’ hand trailed up his side to his waist. “Tell me – your brother,” his eyes were still that same inscrutable blue. “Is he still at home?”

Lukas froze, then dropped his arms and stepped back. “How did you know about that?” he asked. His voice was cold and deadly, the kind of voice a back alley might hold on a night when clouds covered the sky.

_It’ll be okay. He won’t touch you._

Mathias shrugged, letting his hand fall back to his side. His eyes were careless on Lukas’ face. “It’s true then?”

He didn’t have to ask. It was clear in the way Lukas’ lips pressed tight, the way the muscles in his neck tightened, the way his eyes went hard as ice. He said nothing.

“Listen, I-“

Lukas moved. Mathias felt a sharp crack, then nothing.

 

Pain. Stabbing and insistent, above his right ear. Mathias groaned and pushed off the ground, interrupting an intimate moment between his face and the floor. His head spun, and he reached blindly out until his hand made contact with the wall behind him. Blinking, he waited for the spots to clear from his vision before glancing around. The light didn’t seem to have changed. He must have only been unconscious for a few minutes. Groaning again, he leaned his head against the wall, wiping a hand on his pants before reaching up to brush the grit from his cheek.

Something shifted across from him, and Mathias closed his eyes, not needing to look to see Lukas crouched in the opposite corner, gaze fixed on Mathias. He could almost picture him with his hackles raised, all glowing blue eyes and snarling teeth.

Like a startled animal.

Mathias sighed. “You know, I want to help.”

Opening his eyes, Mathias let his head fall forward, wincing. He met Lukas’ gaze, and would have been amused at the way he sat with his arms around his legs, glaring over the top of them, if he hadn’t just taken a hit to the temple.

“I want to help,” he repeated, eyes locked. “Let me.”

Lukas lowered his head onto his arms, and for a second, Mathias thought he’d won.

“No.”

Mathias rolled his eyes. Standing abruptly, Lukas climbed the ladder to his bed and tuned away, facing the wall like he did every night.

“Go to sleep.”

The voice was so quiet, Mathias almost thought he’d imagined it.

_“It’ll be okay,” Lukas whispered. “He won’t touch you.”_

_Emil sniffed once and nodded, his head moving against Lukas’ face in small, quick, bobs._

_They stayed like that, held against one another, for a time. Too long, as tyres crunched against gravel somewhere above them. Not long enough, as Lukas felt a heavy dread weigh on his chest, nothing to do with Emil’s small body. Emil stiffened, his arms tightening around his knees._

_"It’ll be okay,” Lukas said again, because he could hear a door opening, and Emil was choking on a sob. Lukas’s stomach churned. “He won’t touch you. It’s okay.” Thudding, boot-heavy footsteps approached, and Lukas took one last breath, clutching Emil tight before pushing him away. “Go.”_

_Emil was shaking, his legs trembling as he stood, and his eyes were wet and full of terror. He stared at Lukas, and Lukas at him, backing towards the door. The footsteps came closer, wood creaking as feet trumped down the stairs. Emil stood in the shadows next to the door, almost invisible there, and Lukas closed his eyes as it slammed open._

_“I hope you’ve been good.”_

_Lukas didn’t answer, waiting until he heard the faintest slide of skin against the stairs, slipping ghost-like past the man, before he looked at him. The smallest sliver of relief flickered in him._

_Emil had made it. That was all that mattered._

_The man dropped a bottle, letting it clatter across the floor as he stepped into the room and locked the door behind himself._

_Lukas couldn’t help but jerk at the chains around his hands._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and happy holidays to the rest! Sorry for the wait.

“Mathias.”

“Lukas.”

They eyed each other across the table, the excited crowd jostling for position around them. A guard kept watch overhead, making no move to intervene. In fact, he walked a little closer to the railing than usual, eyes flickering over the group every now and then, a stub of paper clutched in his fist.

“Are you ready kids?” called the announcer, a grin in his voice as he pushed his hair out of his face.

Mathias didn’t break eye contact with Lukas as he answered, cocky smile ever present. “Are you kidding Al? I thought I’d be up against you, not princess Pinkie Pie here. I was born ready.”

Lukas pursed his lips and nodded, keeping his face blank as the crowd laughed, though he tightened his grip on Mathias’ hand enough to make his cellmate wince.

“Alrighty then folks, here we go,” Alfred stood on the table between them, white undershirt in his hand rather than on his chest, and raised it above his head. “In three- two- one – start!” Alfred whipped the shirt down like a flag, and Lukas and Mathias tensed simultaneously. The crowd cheered, shouting encouragement and curses, as the two of them strained their arms over the bench. Mathias kept his grin, the muscles in his arm and neck bulging, grip like a crushing vice around Lukas’ hand. Breathing hard through his nose, Lukas pushed his feet against the ground, gripping just as hard, a spike of triumph flashing through him as Mathias’ hand edged closer to the table. Grin flickering, then fading, Mathias’ face turned serious. He glared at their joined hands, chest rising as he sucked in, then clenched his bicep, bringing them back to an upright position. He didn’t let the breath out as they stayed like that, both of their arms locked, trembling just a bit from the forces exerted on them. Lukas glanced from their hands to his face then back again, feeling the burn in his muscles. His feet scrabbled on the gritty concrete beneath them as his hand was slowly, ever so slowly, pushed towards the table top, the cheering and booing from the crowd almost covering his grunt of effort as he pulled it back up again. Mathias was going red in the face, and Lukas was close to joining him, but his arm was giving out and it wouldn’t be long before-

There was a crack, and the crowd erupted around them. Mathias let out a huge breath, then turned to accept the smacks on his back and rough and sloppy kisses to each cheek with a beaming smile, as Lukas withdrew his stinging hand and cradled it to his chest, scowling. Alfred laughed, gathering up stubs from those who wanted to cash them in and swapping them over, easily swiping them out of the hands of the more reluctant losers and stuffing them into his pockets.

“Thank you, thank you – hey, settle down now, let’s be orderly, all right?” His shout went largely ignored, but Alfred didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Sighing to himself, Lukas stood and shook out his shoulders. He slipped out from the press of bodies, making sure not to let his hand bump against anything. At the least, it had passed some time.

He didn’t want to think about the result of his wager.

 

“ _Oh princess_ ,” the sing song voice jabbed into Lukas’ head, and he blinked open his eyes to glare balefully at the ceiling of the cell. “You here?”

Of course, just because he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t mean he would be allowed to forget. Rolling over, Lukas rested his head on an arm and peered down at Mathias’ smug grin. “What?”

Mathias wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Lukas want to throw his pillow at him. “You know what.”

“Fuck off.”

“Yep.” Instead of doing that, Mathias heaved himself up onto the top bunk, Lukas scooting back into the far corner.

“What the f-“

“Hand.”

“. . .What?”

Making the already thin mattress sink further, Mathias moved closer, and Lukas’ shoulders hit the cold wall. “Your hand.”

Clutching it to his chest, Lukas looked at him, his eyebrows creased. Rolling his eyes, Mathias reached into his pants, fumbled around for a second, and pulled out a bandage.

“Give me your hand.”

“You – why was that in your pants?”

“No pockets?”

Rather that dignifying that with a response, Lukas tried to edge off to the side. Maybe if he just jumped-

“Jesus Christ. Do you _want_ to go to the infirmary?”

Lukas’ head snapped up, lips curling in a snarl.

“Then sit the fuck down.”

Face twisting, Lukas didn’t move. Mathias bit back his frustration, figuring that was a good as he’d get. Trying for patient, he reached out and grabbed Lukas’s wrist, ignoring the hiss of pain, and inspected the already bruised and swelling flesh. He let out a low whistle. Lukas’ stare dared him to say something, but Mathias just shrugged, flicking the end of the bandage out with one hand, the other keeping Lukas’ arm steady.

He wasn’t gentle, not by any means, but the firm grip was a stark contrast to the way the two had been crushing each other’s hands only hours ago. Lukas didn’t relax as he watched the bandage wrap around the injury, compressing it, stilling it.

Around, over, under, up, across. Around, over, across, under, up. Over, around, up, across, under. Irritation swelled in the back of his chest at the slapdash treatment, and his fingers twitched every time Mathias’ bushed against them.

“How have you even lived this long?” Lukas muttered once they were done, eyeing the haphazard bandaging with trepidation.

“Good looks,” Mathias grinned in what he probably thought was a charming way, but only increased Lukas’ urge to punch something. Preferably his teeth. Patting the bandage one last time, Mathias sat back, satisfied.

“Piss off.”

“Feels better?”

Lukas looked up at the question, blinking. Mathias waited, glancing between Lukas’ hand and his face. He was sitting upright, head tilted to one side, for all the world a child waiting for approval. But that was disparaging to children; he was more like a stray dog. Rotating his wrist slowly, Lukas pursed his lips, nodding in grudging acknowledgement. “Warm.” He tried not to think about where the warmth had come from.

“Good,” a wolfish grin splitting his features, Mathias moved, and Lukas’ jerked back into the wall. There was a snort, but all he did was turn to climb back down the ladder.

Gritting his teeth, Lukas resisted the urge to fist his hands in the sheet. It was better to do this now, rather than when he wasn’t expecting it. “Where are you going?”

“Well, you can stay here if you want, but I’d rather spend our only ‘free’ hour outside, personally.” Mathias lifted a hand of the rungs of the ladder, using his fingers to make a quotation mark on the word ‘free’.

Lukas glared, frustration eating at him. “Don’t drag this out,” he said, lifting his hand. “I lost. You won.”

“Yeah,” Mathias grinned, chest puffing, before his eyebrows drew together. “You might want to wait a bit for a rematch.”

“You won. You get to have me do you a favour.” Distaste soured the words, even as his stomach roiled from saying them. As much as he thought he was prepared, he’d made the bet in the hopes of more free time, not-

Silence filled the cell.

Lukas looked up, ready to snap, but the words died in his throat. Mathias’ face was carefully flat, his eyes dark and unreadable, hands white where he gripped the ladder. It was the same look he’d had when Lukas had met Tino, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

“ _You think that I_ -“ Mathias cut himself off, but the words burned hot in the air between them. He closed his eyes, and Lukas could almost see him counting to ten inside his head.

Mathias breathed out, hard, through his nose, and his eyes were bitter when he opened them. “Lukas.”

This wasn’t the way he was supposed to react.

Mathias continued with no heed for Lukas’ thoughts, voice carefully even, despite the tension pulling the tendons in his arms to strain against the skin. “I think we need to get something straight.”

He was supposed to remember why he’d climbed up there in the first place. He was supposed to do his business, and be rough about it, because he could. And then he was supposed to go, and leave Lukas there to clean.

 “I’m not going to touch you.” Lukas didn’t say anything. “And as long as were here together,” Mathias said, jerking his head at the cell, “neither is anyone else.”

Lukas just stared, numb.

Mathias let go of the ladder, dropping to the floor and striding out the door without so much as a glance his way.

 

He was supposed to be easy to hate.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything before this can be considered a prequel, from here on is where I will start developing the story.  
> Chapter warnings for graphic depictions of violence, abuse, abuse of children, swearing.   
> Please read with discretion

Mathias glared into his bowl, thoughts elsewhere. 

“Will you stop looking at your food like it insulted your mother?” Ralph asked, rolling his eyes.

“My mother was a whore with a drinking problem, the food really isn’t gonna be able to say anything I wouldn’t agree with.” Mathias scowled at the offending cereal, lifting a spoonful dripping with milk into the air before letting it drop.

“See?” Ralph pointed across the table. “That right there.”

“What?”

“I didn’t need to know that. I didn’t even want to know that. Normal you wouldn’t’ve said that.”

Mathias pushed the cereal away and switched his glare over to Ralph. “So?”

“So. You’re off. There’s something off about you, and as one of the people who benefit from you _not_ being off, I don’t like it.” Ralph’s finger left off pointing to jab at the table. “I blame Bondevik.”

Mathias’ glare increased in temperature, but he didn’t say anything. Seeming to take that as answer enough, Ralph sat back, crossing his arms. “I knew it. Your strong point, lying is not.”

“Shut up.”

“Look, Matt-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“You’ve been different ever since he came here, and it’s starting to show. All I’m saying is-“

Mathias stood abruptly, flicked him off, and stormed away.

Ralph was only halfway through scratching a dick into Mathias’ seat when he stomped back.

“All I was saying,” he continued, as Mathias pushed him back into his own place, “is you have to do better at hiding your emotions, and that is a lovely breast fuck I need to get out of here and find a girl, please stop before I jump you.”

Mathias flicked the spork he’d used to carve into the table over to Ralph, sliding a little further away on the bench. “You’re disgusting.”

“No, I haven’t smoked in three days and I’m sexually frustrated. Something I figure you’d understand by now, unless those guys in block B are right, and you’re banging Bondevik.”

Mathias grinned, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Yeah, you’re not.”

“Fuck off then.”

Making an effort to finish his breakfast, Mathias managed another two spoons of cereal before he pushed the bowl away again and turned to face Ralph. “He has nightmares, you know.”

“More things I don’t need to know, we’re on a roll today.”

“He’s had nightmares the whole time he’s been here. He wakes up before it gets too bad sometimes, but. . .” voice trailing off, Mathias looked down.

“I’m not your counsellor, and I know I’m going to regret asking this, but – what?” Ralph looked pained by the words that came out of his own mouth, like he couldn’t believe he’d said them.

“He says things.” Mathias tried not to think about that, because then the way Lukas had reacted yesterday made too much sense. “He doesn’t belong here, Rafe.”

“Neither does half the prison population. Neither would you, if the jury took your word for it,” Ralph pointed out, a little disturbed Mathias had called him by his nickname.

“No, I mean – he _does_ , but – “

“Hey dudes, what’s up?” Alfred dropped his tray onto the table next to Ralph, grinning at them. They stared at him for a second, then Mathias dropped his head to the table, and Ralph threw up his hands. “Hey, you okay there?” Alfred asked, concerned.

“He’s fine,” Ralph answered, as Mathias knocked his forehead into the hard plastic. “Probably. There _are_ actual counsellors for this shit, you know?” he muttered to Mathias.

“’M fine.”

Ralph shook his head, an annoyed jolt of muscle. “Not for you dickwad, for Bondevik.” He turned his attention back to a bemused looking Alfred. “Kiku kick you out again?”

Alfred’s face darkened, and he looked in the direction his cell mate and their gang usually sat. “Something like that.” Turning away again, he dug into his food, shoulders tight.

Ralph looked from Alfred to Mathias and back again.

“I’m not paid enough for this.”

 

 

Lukas lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. His stomach growled, but he didn’t move. The cell block was quiet so that it was almost disturbing. Usually there was the sound of talking, toilets flushing, TVs, from those that could have them.

His eyes closed, slow, and faltering, and he slipped into a fitful sleep.

 

_Lukas shoved Emil ahead of him, keeping him on his feet.  “Run!” he shouted, no time to look back, no time to check where their mother was. “Run, now! Faster!”_

_Emil let out a sob, his small legs moving as fast as they could as the two of them raced down the hill, his sight blurred by tears. There was a terrible shout from behind them, and Lukas felt his heart leap into his mouth. He pushed Emil, sending him careening into a tree, and turned just in time to put his arm up, just in time for the knife to bite into his skin._

_“Stop! Wait, don’t hurt him!” he choked out, voice harsh with pain. He looked back to where Emil had fallen, seeing him still sitting there, and desperation filled him even further. “What are you_ doing _bror,_ run _!”_

_Emil’s cheeks wet, he could only look at their mother in terror, another sob escaping him._

_Lukas’s chest wrenched, but it was all he could do not to cry out as he turned around and his mother dug the blade further into his skin. He sank to his knees, his forearm feeling like it was encased in ice and lava at the same time, and a small part of his brain registered that the cut wasn’t even all that deep. There was no reason for it to be hurting like this._

_“Mor!” Emil scrambled forward, terrified, broken sobs escaping him between breaths, clutching at Lukas’ jacket. “Stop, mor, stop stop he’s bleeding, please stop!”_

_Their mother’s breathing came heavy, and despite the run, the sweat beading her upper lip, she had hardly a hair out of place. Her clothes were neat, pressed, her jewellery only askew. But her eyes were cold as she looked at them, and despite the pain, Lukas jerked his arm away, crying out as it bit into his skin when he pulled back._

_Emil threw himself forward, small legs shaking as he stumbled in front of Lukas, gasping lungful’s of air as he met her eyes. Lukas’s brain screamed at him, and he grabbed on to Emil’s hood with his working hand, fingers digging harshly into the red fabric as he tried to drag him back, but his little brother wouldn’t budge._

_“Emil, stop, get back please god get back-“_

_“Mor, I’m sorry, we’re sorry,” Emil was pleading with her, legs shaking so much now he could hardly stand. “Sorry, I’m sorry it wasn’t on purpose, I promise we won-“_

_“_ Shut up _!” her voice was a shriek, shrill against their ears, and fresh tears streaked down Emil’s cheeks. “Shut the fuck up, both of you! I’m going to kill you, I swear to god, I’m going to kill you!”_

_Emil’s sobbing grew louder as she screamed, and his legs gave out beneath him. He kept begging though his tears, even as she raised the knife again, even as Lukas dragged him backwards, scrambling over the cold ground to get away, even as his voice choked off, hoarse from use. He kept begging, moving his lips without sound._

Lukas woke sweating, arms locked by his sides, throat closed, to the sound of footsteps approaching the cell. He took a gasping breath, raising a trembling hand to wipe over his face. The footsteps stopped outside, and there was a brief pause before a knock came.

Sitting himself upright, Lukas pushed his hair back, eyes catching on the silvery skin of his scar that peeked out from the dismal bandages around his wrist before skittering away. “Yeah,” he called, swallowing at the sound of his voice.

“Should I come back later? It sounds like you’ve already had a rough time of it.”

Lukas shook his head. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman with me, Arthur.”

“Who me?” Arthur stepped into the cell, a slow smile spreading across his face. His uniform was already messed up, the prison-issue sweater hanging off one shoulder. A line of bruises dotted his neck, and he licked his lips as he eyed Lukas. “Why, I’d never.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tension and other factors in this story will be raising from here on in, and the levels of violence and abuse along with it. There will also be some sexual themes that may or may not escalate, so please take caution reading.


End file.
